Stealing Sorcery

by Andrew Rowe

  Her partner turned his gaze away, clenching his jaw. “Fine. We can stay here, for now. But isn’t there anyone we can trust to investigate? I’d ask my family, but of course, that wouldn’t quite work.”

  Lydia leaned her head against her hand, considering. Taelien is still in training – and he wouldn’t even know where to start looking. Landen and Velas are in the same position…but I suppose there is someone.

  “I have someone I can ask, but you’re not going to like it.”

  ***

  Hours later, Lydia pressed a letter against a mirror.

  Dear Jonan,

  I know you’ve been looking for a good opportunity to visit Velthryn. As it turns out, now would be a good time.

  -Lydia

  Chapter VII – Velas III – Excessive Damage

  Velas sat in the stands of the Koranval Coliseum, overlooking the setup of the contest in the arena below. The stadium was the largest in the city and dedicated to Koranir, the God of Strength. During sporting events and war games, the Coliseum could seat nearly twenty thousand citizens. At the moment, it held a smaller but still intimidating number – more than a thousand full paladins, several hundred squires and priests, and nearly five hundred paladin applicants.

  Must be more than half of the paladins in the city here. This is going to be embarrassing if I mess it up.

  She noted a few boxes of private citizens in the stands as well – the majority of whom were probably close friends of high ranking paladins or nobles who donated significant amounts of money. She saw the banners of House Korvis, the owners of the coliseum itself, in one of the larger boxes – although not the largest. To the left of House Korvis she noted another box flying the banners of House Glaid, the house of the city’s current champion swordmaster, Dreas Glaid. She couldn’t quite see into the box from her angle – it was too high up – but she wondered if the swordmaster himself would be watching the contest below.

  “You’re thinking. That’s dangerous.” Landen poked a finger into her ribs and she playfully smacked his hand. He was dressed in full armor; a look she thought suited him. Freshly shaved and with his hair trimmed short, he was the very image of the perfect knight. In times like this, his persona glittered just as brightly as his mail and served just as well for deflecting threats. Velas knew how to exploit the weaknesses in both of his forms of armor, but she hoped she’d never have to make use of them.

  “Oh, you know, just looking for any actual competition since there isn’t any close by.”

  Landen raised a hand to his heart, fluttering his eyes. “I am wounded by your dismissal, my lady. Is that any way to treat a man with a higher estimated performance score than yours?”

  Velas folded her arms, which were just as well armored as Landen’s. She wasn’t wearing her full armor today – just a mail shirt with bracers and greaves – because they didn’t know the details of the test and she wanted a mix of protection and mobility. If their qualifying event was a footrace she suspected Landen was doomed. “Oh, you know those scores are bullshit. And you’re only six points higher than me anyway.”

  “If they’re bullshit, why do you remember our exact scores?”

  “Sometimes it’s important to quantify the exact values of bullshit. In this case, the delta between my test scores and reality is about thirty points.”

  “So, you’re saying they should have put you at a forty instead of a seventy. That’s very humble of you, I’ll make sure to let the testers—”

  She smacked his arm playfully, then raised her fists and shook them in the air in challenge.

  “Okay, okay, I surrender.” Landen held up his palms in a defensive gesture. “And I think they’re about to announce something.”

  “Finally. We’ve been waiting for hours and I’m starving.”

  On the opposite side of the coliseum, a portly man stood on a raised platform dressed in ostentatious robes trimmed with silver. He was flanked by a pair of paladins, but wore no indications of any affiliation with the paladins or priests himself. Velas didn’t recognize him.

  Most likely one of the people from House Korvis, then.

  It took her several moments to realize that he was speaking – and then another moment before a wave of sound sorcery washed over her, carrying his voice along with it.

  “Good day, friends, and welcome to our arena! Today, by the grace of Koranir, we will witness a fearsome contest. More than four hundred men and women, eager to prove themselves in the eyes of gods and men. Behold, the first of the Trials of Unyielding Steel!”

  He clapped his hands, which with the benefits of sound sorcery felt like a thunderclap. Velas grit her teeth at the impact.

  The man doesn’t have a tenth of the presence that Edon did, but at least he’s excited to be here.

  The speaker looked around, grinning from ear to ear, and then continued. “I, Orellas of House Korvis, have the great esteem to preside over this contest. In a few moments, you will see the nature of the challenge.”

  Velas watched as numerous attendants entered the arena below, beginning to prepare the field for the event. She tightened her jaw when she caught a glimpse of a straw dummy used for archery practice. All of the paladin trainees had some degree of archery training, but it was hardly her area of expertise.

  When she saw the distance between the targets and where the attendants began to set up the stations with bows and standing quivers, she exhaled deeply.

  “Don’t be nervous, Vel. You’ve got this.” Landen patted her on the hand.

  She let out a light laugh. “Me, worry? Never.”

  Velas pulled her hand away, clenching her fists in her lap.

  “As you can see, this will be a medium distance archery contest. With a few extra rules to keep things interesting.” Orellas made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating where a second group of attendants were entering the arena. A stream of dozens of people carried armor and helmets, dressing the straw dummies in them.

  Landen let out a groan, and Velas let herself crack a grin.

  “Who’s nervous now?”

  “Quiet. I’m thinking.” Landen folded his arms.

  A group of uniformed paladins lined up behind the dummies, placing their hands on the shoulders of the straw men. Velas and Landen watched as the paladins spoke in unison – although their voices were too distant to hear – and blue auras flickered and disappeared around the figures. The paladins retreated from the arena shortly thereafter.

  “As you can see, these archery targets are quite thoroughly protected. Armored and helmed like real soldiers, they have few vulnerable points – and even then, they are guarded by a layer of protective sorcery.”

  The announcer pointed his hand toward an area in front of the archers where a group of attendants was measuring out a line in chalk. “Applicants will line up at these bows and pick a target. They will be given twelve arrows to fire. After each applicant has shot his or her arrows, they may all cross the line to retrieve them – this is the only time the applicants may walk across the chalk line.”

  The representative of House Korvis grinned, gesticulating at the dummies. “But merely firing your arrows will not be enough – you must cause grievous harm to your formidable foes. Each applicant will be allowed a total of three flights of arrows. No more! When you have shot each of your arrows, the paladin judges,” he gestured to a nearby box where Velas could see a few armored figures, “will score you from zero to one hundred points. When all of the applicants have finished the test, we’ll reveal the scores. Of four hundred and eighty six candidates, only forty will pass on to the next stage of your tests.”

  Velas heard a series of groans and gasps from the other applicants in the crowd, but she wasn’t surprised. These tests took considerable resources to run, and she knew the paladins only wanted the best of the best.

  At archery, at least. Bah. At least I don’t have to go first.

  On their way in, the paladin applicants had pulled numbered wooden wedges out of
a jar to determine when they would participate in the contest. Taelien had been unlucky enough to pull a “1” – meaning he was going to be in the first group below. Landen and Velas had both pulled group “3”, so they would be taking the test together.

  “One more thing, before you get too clever! No damaging the dummies while you collect your arrows.”

  Another series of groans.

  “And now, before we begin, I would like to lead you in the warrior’s prayer.”

  Velas and Landen stood automatically, having heard and spoken the prayer hundreds of times. It was one of the most traditional Tae’os prayers, often being used before contests of battle, as well as most sports. They each raised a fist over their hearts, symbolizing carrying a sword.

  As Orellas began, over a thousand voices spoke with him, nearly in unison.

  Sytira, grant us the wisdom to see the path to victory,

  Aendaryn, give us the skill to fight without equal,

  Eratar, shelter us from the arrows of our enemies,

  And Lysandri, give us the strength to shelter our friends.

  Lissari, let your light wash over our wounds,

  Koranir, give us the strength to fight again,

  And Xerasilis, let our battles always be just.

  Velas closed her eyes as she spoke the prayer. She did not believe the gods would hear them – that was not why she prayed. Even the most fervent of paladins didn’t literally believe that the gods listened to words spoken into the wind. She prayed, as each of them did, to reinforce those values within her – and to give her the inner strength to persevere.

  There was a brief silence as the prayers concluded and many eyes reopened.

  “First contestants, you may enter the arena!”

  Velas watched as the first group of twenty-five applicants entered, still holding a hand over her chest. It was only as Taelien entered the arena, sheathed swords swinging on each of his hips, that she allowed herself to grin and return to her seat.

  Keldyn Andys marched right behind Taelien, head held high. Rather than armor, he was dressed in a gilded tunic, like he was attending a formal party. His only visible weapon was a long dagger on his left hip. He waved to the crowd as he approached his arrow stand.

  Keldyn leaned toward Taelien and whispered something as the pair approached their bows. The latter just shook his head. Velas thought she could see a grin on his face.

  Very few of the other contestants looked familiar – which was unsurprising, given that there were hundreds of total applicants. Most were visitors from outside the city, but she also knew there were a few classes of paladin applicants that had trained separately from her own. She was looking forward to seeing what they were capable of.

  But, more importantly, she was looking forward to seeing what Taelien managed to score.

  “Contestants, bows ready!”

  The archers lined up, drew their bows and knocked their first arrows.

  “Aaaand…fire!”

  Nearly all of the archers missed. Taelien and Keldyn both missed badly.

  Velas lowered her forehead to her hand as she heard hooting and jeering from the crowd.

  This could be embarrassing.

  Eleven arrows later, Orellas called, “Cease fire!”

  Taelien’s target sprouted a single arrow, barely piercing the right elbow, which was only covered with light mail. Three of his earlier arrows had struck the target, but two had been deflected by the sorcerous barrier around it and a third had deflected off the helmet.

  Keldyn was faring just slightly better, with one of his arrows having pierced the target under the shoulder – a deadlier shot, but still not likely to be instantly fatal to his straw opponent.

  The pair glanced at each other, and then at their other contestants. At least two of the other applicants had done considerably better. One of them was a young boy, looking like he had barely reached his teenage years. His target sprouted two arrows that had pierced through the chain mail around the neck.

  Tirith, she remembered from seeing him in the history class. I had just assumed he was planning to be a squire. Would they allow someone his age to become a full paladin?

  I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.

  “Contestants, retrieve your arrows!”

  Velas watched closely as Taelien braced his hand against his target’s neck, twisting his single arrow to safely retrieve it without breaking off the head. Unconsciously, she rubbed her own arm as the arrow slipped free.

  After the contestants retrieved their arrows, there was a brief pause as a line of paladins emerged from the opposite arena entrance. They stood behind the dummies and, in perfect sync with one another, recast the protective spells to shield the targets from harm.

  Velas let out another groan along with dozens of other members of the audience.

  The announcer laughed. “You didn’t think we were going to let you wear the barriers down between volleys, did you? This needs to be a challenge! Now, archers, raise your bows!”

  This is bad. At least Taelien landed an arrow – I don’t even know if I can do that much. Landen is going to be fine – he’s a good shot. Better than anyone down there right now, and easily good enough to get into the top forty. Sal and I, though…we’re going to need help.

  “You may fire when ready!”

  Taelien didn’t fire at all. At first, Keldyn didn’t fire either, turning to watch Taelien curiously. As the others loosed their arrows, however, Taelien simply grinned and folded his arms, watching. Eventually, Keldyn lost his patience and began to fire as well.

  When Keldyn and the other archers finished, Taelien still hadn’t taken a single shot. Keldyn’s target had three new arrows embedded within – two in the less-protected lower body and one glancing hit on the neck. He grinned, saying something to Taelien.

  Taelien set down his bow, grabbing all twelve of the arrows from his quiver and lifting them together. Then, as the audience watched, he ran his hand across the arrowheads.

  And then he opened his hand.

  The arrows shot straight toward his target as a cluster, slamming into the barrier and piercing through it. A cheer erupted from the crowd as the handful of arrows impacted the target, half a dozen of them embedding into the neck. Only one deflected to the ground – the remaining five simply stuck to the bits of metal they impacted with.

  Taelien turned toward her and Landen and winked.

  Velas rolled her eyes.

  “Well, wasn’t that exciting? Well done, young man, quite the spectacle. You all still have one round left, however! Go retrieve your arrows!”

  The contestants moved to pick up their arrows, Taelien walking with renewed swagger. Velas was pretty sure she saw him blow Keldyn a kiss.

  Taelien pulled his arrows away one at a time, tapping the arrowheads, which seemed to remove the magnetic effect he had placed on them.

  Interesting. Is he going to try the same trick twice?

  Once again, the applicants returned to their bows, and the paladins returned to the arena and restored the barriers around the targets.

  Taelien readied his bow this time, but Keldyn did not.

  “Begin!”

  The archers loosed their arrows again, several of which performed better than in the previous rounds. Taelien’s archery was still sub-par; his sole face hit deflecting off the barrier spell.

  Keldyn had closed his eyes, pressing his hands together in front of him in concentration. As the last of the other archers finished, Keldyn raised his right hand – and a glowing golden sword appeared in the air above him. Velas heard a series of murmurs and gasps from the crowd.

  The Gift of Aendaryn. The Dominion of Blades.

  Keldyn lowered his hand. The sword shot forward, gold sparks flickering as it tore through the barrier around the target and paused, floating in the air.

  The blonde-haired swordsman smiled and slashed his hand through the air.

  The straw dummy’s head fell, severed by the golden blade.
/>
  As the crowd stood and cheered, Keldyn opened and closed his hand, causing the golden blade to vanish. Then, he grasped all of his arrows in a hand as Taelien had – turned around, and carelessly tossed them over his shoulder and past the chalk line.

  “With all of the arrows past the line, I do believe our first test –”

  Taelien was drawing the sword on his right hip.

  The sword’s vermillion blade reflected in the dawnfire’s light, drawing the eyes of the crowd. Taelien raised it reverently, kissing the blade, and took a step back.

  Then, he reversed his grip on the hilt and dragged two fingers from his other hand across the blade.

  The sword’s blade ignited with brilliant blue fire. Taelien took two more steps back, adjusted his grip, then stepped forward and hurled the sword like a javelin.

  The crowd fell deathly silent as the flaming blade soared through the air. As it struck, the flaming sword penetrated the barrier and continued forward, piecing straight through the dummy’s breastplate and all the way through the back. The flames surged and spread, quickly engulfing the entire body.

  Once again, the crowd rose and cheered.

  “Wonderful! This is wonderful! I must give my commendations to both of the sword-throwers below.” The announcer’s gleeful laughter echoed throughout the stadium, amplified by sorcery. “Goodness, I’ve rarely seen such things, and it’s only the first group! Well, the stage has certainly been set. First group, well done, all of you. You may return and let the second group come forward.”

  Not bad, Sal. Not bad at all.

  How can I do better?

  “Um, so, that was interesting,” Landen mumbled.

  “Yeah, we’re kind of screwed, aren’t we?” Velas chuckled, watching the second group of applicants come forward. She recognized the Rethri twins, Terras and Lysen, in the group.

  Sorcerers have a huge advantage here. A shame my dominions aren’t really ideal for the situation – and Landen isn’t a sorcerer at all. A burst of motion sorcery would add a lot of punch to one of my arrows, but I couldn’t guide it accurately that way. And there’s no way I could throw something that distance – Taelien must have guided his sword with magnetism, like he did with the arrows.